


Discovery Channel

by coffeeandfeathers



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Down, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, elements of father/son relationship, just general patheticness, post-rv fight, takes place during season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:52:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandfeathers/pseuds/coffeeandfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt asks Jesse if he wants breakfast after their fight and Jesse agrees. General awkwardness/toast ensues.<br/>Missing scene from Down.<br/>There is so much Walt/Jesse porn and sometimes I just want to read about these two assholes eating omelets. Sue me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discovery Channel

            “Do you want some breakfast?” The words were so out of character, so sudden, that Jesse momentarily forgot the stink of his clothes and looked up at Walt in surprise. His partner looked back, and they stared at each other for a moment, marveling in the awkwardness of the situation before Jesse gave in to the hollowness of his stomach and nodded. He’d wolfed down a couple of gas station hot dogs the previous day, but they’d only made him feel queasy, not full, and it was almost ten o’clock. Breakfast sounded… good.

            “Yeah. I mean, I thought you didn’t want me to touch anything.” He gestured to his sticky clothes and Walt sighed.

            “I can’t exactly hose you off outside, now can I?”

            “Well then can I use your shower?” Jesse’s back still smarted from where Walt had pushed him into the counter in the RV. He wasn’t exactly feeling tactful.

            “And then get back into those clothes? I don’t think so.”

            “I don’t have anything else, Mr. White, Jesus.” He held his arms open and Walt turned his head and coughed at the smell.

            “Fine, fine. Here’s what we’ll do. You get into the shower and I’ll throw your clothes in the wash and find you some of my old things. Does that sound palatable to you?”

            It did, but Jesse resented his tone. “I guess.”

            “Bathroom’s down the hall and to the left. Leave your clothes outside the door. I’ll see what I can find for you.”

            “Thanks, Mr. White.” He didn’t show it, but even a sarcastically offered act of kindness felt like a fucking blessing, especially after the day he’d had. His stomach had been in knots since driving through the fence, and the fight with Walt had only exacerbated the ache under his ribs. He needed to eat something soon or he was going to break down, and he didn’t want anyone to see him like that, least of all his sociopathic ex-chemistry teacher.

            Jesse waddled into the bathroom and as soon as the door closed behind him, he all but flung his hoodie and jeans onto the tile before peeling off his shirt. He opened the door a crack and left the whole mess out on the carpet before pulling off his boxers and stepping into the shower.

            Other peoples’ showers were notoriously difficult to navigate, but Jesse managed to turn on the water and flinched as it hit him like a punch to the face. Say what you wanted about Mr. White, his water pressure was killer. Jesse stood for a while under the rusty, lukewarm stream, listening to his heart beat, before taking the bar of soap from the dish built into the wall. Running it over his tender ribs and the bruises that were still healing after the encounter with Tuco, Jesse wished he had steel wool. Maybe that way he’d actually be able to wash away the events of the last thirty hours, or at least the literal shit he’d fallen into. He settled for scrubbing his nails through his hair and over his skinny legs and jutting hips. Mr. White would make a comment about how small he was without his jeans and giant hoodie, that was for sure, and Jesse wasn’t really in the mood to hear it. He’d always been pretty gawky, even when he was living at home, and the recent downturn into poverty hadn’t exactly helped his waistline much. The last thing he needed was the judgment of the only person he could turn to.

            “Jesse?” The voice made him jump.

            “Yeah?”

            “I’m leaving some clothes outside the door.” Walt’s voice sounded garbled, or maybe it was just the water in Jesse’s ears.

            “Okay.” He yelled back, and once the footsteps outside the door had faded, he turned off the water and pulled a towel from the rack. He felt better, or at least a little warmer as he ran the towel over his wet hair and the bruises on his legs and tailbone. Tuco’s shoes had been steel-tipped, but he hadn’t mentioned it to Walt. Besides, Jesse’s injuries were on a need to know basis. He didn’t need to look any weaker than he felt.

            Jesse wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door a crack to find a neatly folded t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants sitting on the floor. The cloth felt good against his skin as he pulled the t-shirt over his head and caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. He smoothed his fingers through his messy hair and then kneaded both cheeks.

            “Ah, God,” he said aloud, pulling at the circles under his eyes. “You look like shit.”

            “Jesse! Breakfast is finished!” Jesse jumped at Walt’s voice, still a little rattled from driving through the fence. _Relax_ , he told himself. _It’s okay. Just eat and get out._

The table was set when Jesse made his way back into the kitchen. It smelled like eggs and cheese and coffee and his stomach rumbled audibly, eliciting a glance from Walt.

            “You hungry?” he asked, and Jesse nodded, embarrassed.

            “Coffee?” Walt asked, and Jesse nodded again. The mug was warm in his hands and on his tongue and he was slowly starting to feel a little more like himself.

            “Is it okay for me to be here?” he asked. “I mean, because of your wife and all?”

            Walt sighed. “She’ll be out for a few hours. And my son is at school. You’re fine.”

            “Thanks. I mean, for this.”

            “I already had the food out. Might as well not eat alone.” He slid an omelet onto a plate and handed it to Jesse. “Toast?”

            “Yeah.”

            They ate in silence, Jesse trying not to cram every bite into his mouth like a dying man. It had been a while since he’d eaten something more substantial than box dinners and Funyuns and his body was screaming for real food. _Dunno why Mr. White is cooking meth,_ he thought. _He could make bank off breakfast food._

“No one’s going to take that away from you, you know,” Walt said, and Jesse looked up in surprise, his mouth full.

            “Hm?”

            “I said no one’s going to take it away from you. You don’t have to inhale it.”

            Jesse swallowed. “Sorry.”

            “You want another one? I’ve got the eggs out.”

            “No, it’s okay.”

            “It’s no trouble.” Walt was looking at him the way you’re supposed to look at sad puppies at the Humane Society. “You’re skin and bones.”

            _And there it is._ “I know.”

            “That doesn’t bother you?”

            Jesse shrugged. “I’m aerodynamic.”

            To his surprise, Walt laughed. “I guess so.”

            A moment of silence before Jesse crammed down the last of his omelet. “Actually…”

            “Yes?”

            He averted his eyes. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.”

            The second omelet was just as good as the first and by the time he’d finished it, his stomach felt warm and tight as if he’d swallowed a balloon. Walt got up to put the plates in the sink before speaking.

            “Your clothes are in the dryer, by the way. I think they’ve got about forty more minutes. I’m going to go take a shower. Will you be okay out here?”

            “Uh, yeah.” _Who was this guy?_ An hour ago Walt had almost put him through the windshield of the RV and now he was letting Jesse roam around his house unsupervised?

            “You sure? Are you going to steal my silverware?” He was only half joking. Jesse shook his head.

            “Not since you gave me my money.”

            “TV’s in the den. You can watch it if you like.”

            “Thanks.”

            Jesse poked around the house for a moment after he heard the shower start before he made his way to the den. Mr. White certainly wasn’t living in luxury. Walking on his floorboards sounded like stepping on a human spine and the shower wasn’t the only faucet that spurted brown, lukewarm water. Maybe he wasn’t as crazy as Jesse had originally thought. He obviously needed the money.

            The couch was worn and comfortable when Jesse sat down and as he leaned back, his sore body reminded him that he’d only slept two or three hours on the RV floor the night before. The combination of the shower and the food and his pent up exhaustion was starting to push him towards the edge of sleep, and that couldn’t happen, not here. Jesse rubbed his eyes and yawned before turning on the TV. _Discovery Channel,_ he thought. _Figures._

            The narrator was starting to make things worse. He had one of those warm radio voices that sent tingles down your spine if you listened too long and Jesse yawned again. God, this couch was comfortable. Maybe he could close his eyes just for a second. He’d definitely notice when the shower turned off and he could pretend he hadn’t been sleeping at all. That would be fine. Just a couple of minutes for him to get his wits together, that was it, and then he’d go.

            Jesse curled up with his head against the arm of the couch and his back to the TV. He’d just doze, he told himself, closing his eyes. Just for a second.

Walt emerged from the bathroom to a quiet house. For a moment, he wondered if Jesse had left, but a cursory glance outside showed that the RV was still there. Discovery Channel was playing quietly in the den but when he went to check if Jesse was in there, he was met with the sight of his partner fast asleep on the couch.

Walt’s first instinct was to shake him awake, but as he approached Jesse’s sleeping form, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the purple bruises still dotting his arms and legs. After sleeping in the RV all night, Jesse must have been exhausted, Walt reasoned. It would be cruel to wake him. And besides, Skyler was off god knows where doing god knows what. She’d be none the wiser to a drug addict sleeping on her couch.

Walt watched Jesse’s sides rise and fall with each breath for a moment, arguing with himself as to how to handle the situation. Eventually, the father in him won out. He retrieved a blanket from the cupboard and draped it over Jesse’s skinny form, watching him adjust in his sleep to pull the blanket over his shoulders and curl up underneath it. This was a situation Walt could deal with later. In the meantime, he had dishes to do.


End file.
